


priest, are you there?

by daddysin



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: AU, BDSM, Blood Kink, Choking, Dark, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, F/M, Face Slapping, Fluff, If you guys haven’t read my other shit may I just say, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pain Kink, Pregnancy, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romance, Swearing, UR IN FOR A TRIP WOHDNDHD, if u squint, ish, like how Joseph and deputy met is an AU, like this is p dark so if ur not into that, misuse of a belt, ok ok ok, spitting, ya know steer clear kiddo’s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddysin/pseuds/daddysin
Summary: Forgive me priest, for I have sinned.





	1. Am I Lilith, or am I Eve?

**Author's Note:**

> I recently bought Far Cry 5, and not only did the game inspire me, but so did In This Moment’s songs, Oh Lord and Black Wedding. 
> 
> Enjoy.

> It’s Joseph, always Joseph. 

Its hard to imagine what you were like before you had met him, before Eden had become something so dear to your heart. Regardless you don’t dwell on past mistakes, things that can no longer be altered.

Now, now you pray for _sin_. For an excuse. An excuse to fill the need you so desperately crave.

He’s there, to hold you softly and while he is not one to take confessions; he does, for you.

And you savour it everytime, waiting a few weeks till you can brightly declare another sin. So you can feel the sweet kiss of leather on your thighs, your back. Around your throat.

The sweet sting of the belt buckle he refuses to remove as he ghosts it over the raw flesh.

That’s why being seen as, nothing, in his siblings eyes are what pains you the most. Not the shame, not the regret of letting those people suffer to a pack of hungry wolves. No, the simply fact you cannot join him at the table, face pressed snugly into his thigh, receiving sweet words of praise as you press your lips to his clothed thigh and fingers.

He meets your eyes and you hold your head high, you refuse (even if you had practically given yourself over to Eden) to be looked down upon, or even glanced at with pity.

It seems Jacob has a keen eye, following your line of sight, a sharp backhand follows swiftly. While the blood is sucked through your teeth, you wish it had been Joseph’s hand instead.

The next time you see his face isn’t for what feels like months, he seems convinced on your straying, that you’re resulting back to your old ways.

”You’re questioning my faith?”

Your face is a mixture of confusion and skepticism. Although you’re known throughout the community as his lapdog. Consistently sinning for the hope of Joseph seeing you directly, so you may be, _abosolved_.

With a deep instake of breath he simply ignores your bombardment of questions, you reach for him, a feather light touch at most. Joseph’s responding grip could only be described as what a bear trap would feel like. Your teeth clench of habit, you swear you hear your bones creak and whine under the pressure, like the floorboards of one of the abandoned homes.

“Joseph”

You wish you could sound strong, although that would be a lie _(a sin)_. Your voice is soft, like a virgin being touched for the first time. Eyelids hooded, mouth dry.

”I believed, you followed-“

Joseph is more than perplexed, eyes brows furrowed. Although eyes as bright as a does in headlights.

”You walked the path, but it was all a lie. Your faith has blinded them, my family. But you cannot lie to your god” his grip moves to your throat. You gag at the unexpected movement.

The grip not even faltering from the one that had been on your wrist moments ago. “I see all”

The threat doesn’t scare you, it simply rushes between your thighs like everyone other threat that has spilled from those lips before. He preaches himself a god, but in your eyes, he is more akin to the devil then he will ever see. And you would walk on a path of glass to prove your faith.

”Joseph, your belt-?”

The question is the most pathetic thing that has transpired in the room thus far. His grip could easily kill you, till you’re nothing but the flesh the earth worms naw at, at night. But even in a time like this, you will at least make a final wish. One which will carry you into the afterlife. To Edens Gate.

“Yes” Joseph agrees without a hint of hesitation. Teeth clenched similarly to yours earlier.

The sound of the buckle being undone is enough for your thighs to clench together. For the pathetic whines and whimpers fall from your mouth, like a dog begging for a treat.

Anything, just a taste. Just a taste. _Just a taste._

”Your knees”

He hesitates, but removes his hand. You’re sure he has done so upon seeing you easily giving into his will, the fighter you had once been had washed away on the first taste of pain. Although, handed to you by his brother. It was Joseph who was the one to carry on the deed, much to your happiness.

You sink, slowly. Eyes holding contact, his eyes not giving a hint of his temper, of his actual anger toward you of how strong it’s coursing through his veins. Boiling his blood. He slips the loop he has made over your head, his left hand taking a strong grip to the back of your neck, forheads pressed softly.

He cares, in his own way. With the feeling of bruises, and the light sprinkle of blood. _He cares, in his own way._

As do you.

Joseph mumbles a prayer under his breath, praying for you to be forgiven, for you find absolution, for the unholy to not pull you from his arms. It’s then, while you’re partially distracted, by the soft murmur of his lips that he uses his right hand to pull the belt, the loop closing around your throat.

Joseph’s hand is tightly wound into a fist, knuckles white, the belt wrapped around them like an accessory. His face remains expressionless, eyes sweet and wide. The copper taste of blood greets your tongue, and you’re swept into euphoria.

You have a hard time remembering when Joseph was this rough with you, this domineering. It causes prickles up your spine.

The blood does not go unoticied to your partner, Joseph touches your cheek ever so softly with the thumb on the opposing hand. He wants to know, if you need to say it, to say, _Eden_. But you, you are strong, stronger than anyone could ever imagine.

And a belt choking off some of your air supply is not something you wish to submit to. _(PRIDE!)_

You blink thrice, in quick succession.

Joseph stands, full height towering over you.

”You will ask for forgiveness, and you will be absolved from your sins. Your soul will be cleansed, you will be; _pure_ ”

He tugs on the belt.

With barely a gasp of breath a hoarse **“Fuck you”** is what is realised. Albeit you sound nothing like yourself, from the harsh assault on your throat.

Joseph gives a throat laugh, “You’re nothing, a filthy sinner; a whore. You will beg for forgiveness, you will ask me; beg me. And I will deliver your absolution”

You merely whine and buck your hips. Those words, you’re sure they will haunt your Brain late at night.

”You fuck the air so desperately, for whom? For the Devil; for his cock? Answer me!”

You’re pulled forward slightly, like a dog on a leash. A nod seems to be enough to appease Joseph. He runs a hand softly through your hair, you can feel it raidiating off him; he’s proud.

”Now beg. Ask me if you’re deserving of forgiveness. If a filthy useless whore has any place among Eden’s Gate; beg me. Convince me I need a cock warmer”

You whine, and although your hips are grinding blindly against the wood floor beaneath you, you can feel it, your orgasm is so close and your spasaming cunt is the warning sign of such.

”Please, Joseph- Father. I beg you; let me be cleansed. P-please!” Your voice is barely recognisable. 

“You are cleansed; my child”

The belt loosens completely, you fall back, thigh muscles clenching as your panties soak and you feel as though it’s soaked through your pants and onto your thighs. At this point you’re dazed, not only from barely having enough air to live but the mixture of such a strong orgasm aftershock. It has your mind spinning, reeling.

”My child” Joseph’s voice.

It feels like a cool breeze on your skin on a hot summers day, the feeling of the rushing hot water down your back in the shower, the soft fur of a baby kitten. While he cradled you to his chest, singing hymns.

Apologising asthough you hadn’t practically begged him before to treat you as such.

It’s Joseph, always Joseph.


	2. Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got to do the right thing by my family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This second chapter is mainly domestic fluff and romance. I’ve seen a lot of, questionable, fics on here. And while my first chapter was far from innocent, there was full consent between both party’s and the deputy willingly got with Joseph. Anywho, enjoy.
> 
> Excuse typos it’s 6am.

> You feel the pebbles, digging into your feet as you run to get to the church. The hem of your dress clutched in both hands, you don’t remember the last time with such sheer force you had run, determined to reach a destination.

Perhaps when you had escaped the crashed helicopter?

You reach the door, a puffing mess. Face red, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, glistening it the morning sun. Hair blowing in your face from the cool breeze.

You don’t remember, you don’t remember the season when Joseph requested for your hand in marriage. You remember the smell of lemon grass, the soft caress of the lace and silk, the laughter and the taste of wine on your tongue.

Perhaps it was spring? Flowers were in bloom, the feeling that flowed that day was like none other you’d expirenced. To be excepted by a family not your own, warm greeting and open arms, caresses of your hair.

You push the door open, the creak echoes inside the thin wood church, the floorboards do the same as you make your way toward him. His back turned; silently praying to his god. For forgiveness? For strength? You’re not sure. 

“Joseph”

Your voice is soft, the rain that has begun to trickle down the windows and the thunder that rumbled above you almost drowns you out entirely. You wish not to interrupt something you know he takes so close to his heart. The thing that holds him together.

You open your mouth, to repeat yourself, flushed at the thought of upsetting or even embarrassing him at such a holy moment. Although, Joseph; no matter when or where, he makes time for you.

He stands, you assume he’s finished. When he does face you, a small smile graces his face and he seems more relaxed now under your gaze. “Rook, is there a problem?”

Joseph had been one for never truly showing much emotion, not to say he was _emotionless_. You’re not sure why Joseph chooses to keep everything bottled inside but, in this very moment, his eyes flash with something akin to concern.

Still slightly unreadable but certainly evident when he takes your face in his hands. His hands were always so soft and pleasant, you’d kiss every finger tip before you’d go to bed; _if you had the time_.

The rough feeling of the leather chord of his necklace in contrast to the soft and warm feeling is almost a metaphor for the relationship you have.

You may have made love on your wedding night, and other seperate occasions, but there are times where the roughness is simply what you need or what Joseph needs.

”Joseph, I-“ you pause, removing a hand from your face to place tightly against your abdomen.

Your face is red again but for a different reason, you had known of Joseph’s past. Of his wife, _his daughter_. You had dreamt of having your own children.

Two boys who took after their uncles and father.

A sweet girl who would run after Faith, demanding to know how she got the butterflies to land on her delicate porcelain skin.

The family portraits, the dinners.

” _We’re pregnant_ ”

The lump in your throat returns, it’s the devil. The devil on your shoulder, whispering of your role as a replacement. As a nobody.

You were more than that, you were a deputy, a damn fine cop and, even though you had expected a different outcome you simply could not blame Joseph for the love that grew.

It was your choice to look at him that hot summers night, _preaching in a tent no less_.

You can still hear the crickets chirping away as Joseph held you snuggly and told you about the stars. About god, Eden’s Gate. Redemption.

The feeling of the summer breeze whipping you in the face ever so often, and how, stiff he was when you would move closer and place your head on his shoulder.

Joseph’s hand clenches the soft fabric, a fist holding on for what, you’re not sure.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

”I-I don’t know I only just found out, Joseph”

Your voice, it trembles. On the edge of shame, regret.

You scold yourself, to ruin something so beautiful? Something that has bloomed over the night sky and softly spoken words. So you to stand here, to remind him, to remind him of the evil he had done; _you’re the monster._

“They will be strong, they will carry on the Seed linage. They will find their way to Eden’s Gate” Joseph pushes a loose strand behind your ear, a thumb resting perfectly under your cheek bone, “You will be the mother our children deserve and more, you will give them the strength, hope and love”

Joseph’s voice, it’s so soft.  It takes a moment for you to notice Joseph said _“children”_ ; plural. A clap of thunder startles you, bring you back to the present.

Youre not sure how long you had been standing there, long king up at John with a glazed look in your eyes. But he seems to be glowing with happiness regardless of your small trip into another world.

Your lips chapped, but at this moment you feel something, like a spark igniting in your chest. Spinning like a pinwheel and growing only brighter at the realisation this could be your future. You press your lips to Joseph’s. The kiss is both soft but heated. Tongues and teeth are both present.

You don’t exactly remember what season it was, but you do remember the creak of the floorboards, the soft feeling of Joseph’s hands and the sun rays that danced along his tattooed back. The smell of fresh rain and lemon grass. It must have been spring.


End file.
